For Dulce

Virelai

Every moment of my fate
works on me with shame and hate:
this because I did not wait
but accepted second best,
and I hate and thank the trait
that rules of late,
sensible, resigned, unblessed,
that prevents with rapid rate
of verbal freight
all I want at my behest--
and I wanted her to bait
fates and fairies as my mate.
Now I am no longer great,
which I know and have confessed.
Every moment of my fate
works on me with shame and hate:
this because I did not wait
but accepted second best.


Rondeau

Everyone loves to love her;
everyone aims,
frantic, for her attention.
Everyone tries to shove her
into his games--
everyone loves to love her.
Everyone aims
to put themselves above her,
action that names
any I wouldn't mention.
Everyone loves to love her;
everyone aims,
frantic, for her attention.


Ballade

Everyone knows the blood and heat that tease
under the skin that sheathes her frozen bones.
Everyone knows that I would like to seize
everything my imagined darling owns--
but I would never risk her pouts and moans.
Everyone knows how hard I work to please,
answering strictness with a cheerful fist.
None of my labors can repay my loans;
everyone knows that she does not exist.